


hold me close while I think this through

by bgaydocrimes



Series: a pretty good bad idea [3]
Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, Forced Orgasms, I have been told this is actually cute, I'm gonna say bdsm lite, Porn, Praise Kink, accidental angst sorry, apparently I'm taking all your dirty prompts so hmu, top!jen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgaydocrimes/pseuds/bgaydocrimes
Summary: Jen straightens her shoulders and stands up tall, looking down at Judy before helping her raise her hips, pulling Judy’s dress over her head and pushing hard at her shoulders so she falls against the bed pillows. “Right now, you don’t control anything. Do you understand?”
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Series: a pretty good bad idea [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782193
Comments: 28
Kudos: 140





	hold me close while I think this through

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiring prompt for this was courtesy of Hayley, who also deserves all the thanks for betaing and dealing with me at the ass crack of dawn every morning while I wrote this. Also thanks to the many lovely people who read and gave feedback and talked through shit with me.
> 
> "a whole bunch of orgasms way over what is fun or comfortable" is just a snippet of the prompt that birthed this fic soooo, buckle up.
> 
> note:  
> I figured this slotted in nicely in this bad idea universe when I got the prompt. Reading the first parts isn't necessary though; this is a total standalone.

She probably shouldn’t have ever visited her mom. 

Judy knew - and she tells herself this often - that interactions with Eleanor were never going to be productive, yet she can never quash that unreasonable childhood fantasy of a real mother-daughter relationship. It’s like the logical side of her brain steps aside and everything she spent thirteen years of her life feeling comes rushing back to take over. Still that idiotic, hopeful little girl waiting for her mom to walk back through the door. The desire to please her, like maybe this time she can be good enough, can learn to give instead of always taking. She knows she was a difficult child, that she was needy and clingy and she made bad decisions that her mom is still suffering the consequences of, but she’s never been able to quash that glimmer of hope that she could be redeemable. 

Judy so desperately wants her mom to love her.

Maybe that’s why she did it. Changed her mind and decided to help in whatever way she can with the parole hearing. Still guilty about the way she had let her pain rise to the surface the last time they’d spoken about it, telling Eleanor she hadn’t changed and Judy wouldn’t help her. 

Judy didn’t tell Jen about her change of heart, the clear memory of her words that night in the garage enough to get her to keep her mouth shut. 

_ You love anyone who gives you a morsel of fucking attention... you’ll just stick around for anybody.  _

It was the truth. She wasn’t very worthy of anyone’s attention so when she got it she latched on, desperate for some kind of connection and approval. Her mom’s especially, because if anyone could love Judy surely it would be her own mother?

When she’d told Eleanor she’d changed her mind, that she’d write the letter, her mom had reached out across the table to grab her hand and for just a moment Judy felt hopeful. There were no underhanded comments or thinly veiled manipulations, just what felt like gratitude. So, while it was her fault her mom was in jail, maybe she could be the one to help her get out. 

She writes the letter for the parole board and it’s all bullshit. 

When she was a kid, she’d lay alone in the back of the car they called home and daydream. She’d imagine that her mom worked at the post office like her friend Amy’s mom, and that they lived in a small house in their old neighborhood where Judy would walk home from school every day. This version of her mom would take her for ice cream, proud of Judy’s latest test score or art project. Judy’s imaginary mom was patient when Judy was emotional, never mumbled under her breath about what an idiot her daughter was or made jabs about how sensitive she could be.

Judy writes about that mom. Not this woman she hardly knows, has seen only twice in the last 15 years. She tells the parole board that Eleanor has made amends, learned from her multiple stints in prison and has been clean for years. Judy tells them about the supportive family that will be waiting for her when she’s released. She lies, like she’s become so practiced at doing. 

It doesn’t matter.

Because two weeks after the hearing she gets the news: her mom’s parole was denied. A tiny, horrible part of her feels relief. It makes her sick, takes multiple bruising hits against her own ribs to beat the traitorous feeling from her chest. 

It takes her a couple days before she can bring herself to face her mom. She knows she needs to apologize for letting her down, to make things right. There’s a tiny voice that feels suspiciously like Jen’s influence arguing back though, reminding her that her mom  _ hasn’t  _ changed, that maybe not all of this is Judy’s fault. 

Still, Judy settles on a phone conversation so she doesn’t have to see the painfully familiar look of disappointment on her mom’s face. 

When she calls, they last through thirty seconds of pleasantries before the conversation devolves. Eleanor has always been a master at concealing small jibes inside seemingly innocuous words, ripping Judy to shreds so subtly that it's like it didn’t even happen. Today is no different. 

“You heard I’m still stuck in here, huh?”

“Yeah.” Judy whispers. “I’m so sorry, I really tried…” she trails off, introducing an awkward silence that leaves far too much room for overthinking. 

“Hey, the last time you talked for me I got ten years,” Eleanor laughs, tinny through the phone. “I probably shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.” 

Judy can nearly see the glint she knows is in her mother’s eyes. She doesn’t know what to say, can’t bring herself to apologize again. She was so fucking stupid to think things could have been different after fifteen years. Her breathing shallows as she feels emotion strangling her throat, tears threatening behind her eyes. 

“You know, they said I can appeal and maybe get another hearing. My case manager said I should get another letter; maybe from someone with a family and a good career who the board can trust.”

“Oh,” Judy breathes, resolving to ignore the dig. “That’d be great, mom.”

“Yeah, sure.” Eleanor sniffs, the sudden disinterest in her tone a clear signal of the end of this conversation. “Well, don’t be a stranger sweetie.”

“Okay.” Judy manages after an extended silence. She follows with a quick goodbye, hitting the end call button on her phone before her mom has a chance to respond. 

Fuck.

.

Judy’s been pacing back and forth across the master bedroom in the minutes since the call ended, and she’s so preoccupied with the torrent of emotions she’s trying to quell that she doesn’t hear the front door open or Jen’s heels as she climbs the stairs. 

Jen finds her like this, heart racing and arms wrapped tight around her ribs like she’s going to split apart if she lets go. Immediately Jen’s sitting Judy down on the bed, crouching down in front of her to meet her eyes.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

Judy just shakes her head.

_ You’ll just stick around for anybody. _

“You were right,” Judy whispers, studying the floral print of her dress where it lays over her knees. “My mom is an asshole.”

“Oh, honey. What happened?” 

Jen runs her hands up and down Judy’s upper arms soothingly, obviously concerned and curious but letting Judy take the time she needs to explain.

“I was so stupid. I felt so bad for telling her no before…” Judy tries to gather her thoughts, silently pleading with Jen to understand, to not be disappointed in her. “I wrote the parole letter. But it doesn’t matter; they denied her.”

“How do you feel about it?” 

A wave of relief washes over Judy at Jen’s carefully neutral query. 

“I… don’t know?” 

Judy lifts her chin, finally meeting Jen’s eyes. The warmth there is so loving and reassuring and her face crumples in response.

“I hate this,” she whispers. “I know I’ll never be good enough for her but I don’t know why I can’t stop trying.” Her lower lip trembles as she shakes her head back and forth, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts that are all pushing for recognition at once. She inhales shakily, the feelings of guilt and inadequacy still bubbling over, anxiety and shame broiling in her chest and climbing into her throat.

“I’m so sorry, Jude.” Jen breathes, voice full of emotion. She lifts a hand to Judy’s face, stroking softly over her cheek. 

“You deserve so much better.”

Jen is silent for more than a few moments, studying Judy’s stricken expression with a contemplative stare.

“Can I... try to help you?” Jen pauses and narrows her eyes slightly like she’s evaluating what she’s about to say. “I can make it better.”

Judy meets her eyes again, trying to read from Jen’s expression what she means. After a moment, she nods. Though she doesn’t understand what Jen’s suggesting, even the prospect of not being alone in this is reassuring. She’s so mired in emotions she can’t sort through that she feels like she’ll never resurface without Jen’s aid. 

“Let me help you, baby.” Jen whispers as she trails the back of her hand lightly across Judy’s chest through her floral dress, watching the recognition dawn on Judy’s face. She grips Judy’s chin to force her to meet her gaze, compelling her to respond.

Judy’s next breath comes as a sharp inhale. She’s pretty sure she knows what Jen is suggesting now and she already feels ready. She trusts Jen to take care of her. 

“Yes. Please.” 

The eye contact and Jen’s soft tone are helping, though Judy can still feel herself shutting down a bit from overwhelm, retreating from the emotions screaming for attention in her chest that are making her feel like a little girl again, like a burden. 

“Okay,” Jen breathes, and Judy watches the shift in her. Jen straightens her shoulders and stands up tall, looking down at Judy before helping her raise her hips, pulling Judy’s dress over her head and pushing hard at her shoulders so she falls against the bed pillows. “Right now, you don’t control anything. Do you understand?”

Judy nods, a small thrill zipping through her belly at the thought.

“If I say you come, you come. You’re done when I say you’re done. Are we clear?”

Judy’s eyes widen and she nods again while the beginning pulses of arousal start to quiet the emotions clamoring for concession in her chest.

“Words,” Jen warns. 

“Yes. Please,” Judy adds, already warming at the opportunity to make Jen proud of her. She’s desperate to feel worthy, for Jen’s reassurance that she’s not a disappointment. 

“Good.” Jen leans over to kiss her softly, pulling back and rubbing a thumb back and forth across Judy’s cheekbone. “I’ve got you. I’m going to make it better, baby.”

Jen stands to toe off her heels, slowly rolling up the sleeves of her satin blouse. Oh, god. Judy rubs her thighs together, trying to quell the ache there and she flushes at how wet she is already. She’s always like this for Jen, especially at the prospect of giving up control. She hates how obvious she is, how easy to arouse and quick to offer herself up to Jen, for whatever she deems necessary. 

Jen crawls on top of her predatorily, hair still in a precise bun, her bare feet the only chink in her armor. She observes Judy for a moment at first; just looking her up and down appraisingly, and Judy basks in the vulnerability she feels spread out underneath Jen like this. She can already feel the painful symphony of competing emotions beginning to quiet, stepping aside in deference to Jen. 

Jen leans forward, calculatedly, reaching out and wrapping her fingers around Judy’s delicate wrists, meeting her eyes to wordlessly ask for consent. Judy nods and lets Jen pin her to the bed, meeting for a hot and indelicate kiss, ceding to Jen’s tongue as she takes control. Jen sits Judy back up for a moment to unclasp her bra, breaking the kiss to slip Judy’s panties down to her knees so she can kick them off. The air in the room feels still and oppressive while Judy awaits Jen’s next move, and she nearly sighs in relief when Jen grasps her head in her hands, a softer expression passing fleetingly over her face before she leans forward to kiss Judy again. 

Judy lets Jen press her back into the bed again, watches as Jen retreats, edging further down the bed and looking up from between Judy’s thighs. The first teasing swipe of Jen’s tongue draws a high whimper from Judy’s throat. 

She tries so hard to hold out, even as Jen slips one finger inside of her, fucking her slowly before adding a second. Judy doesn’t want to come, not yet, even though it’s clear Jen wants her to. She wants to make Jen happy but - god - she knows as soon as she comes she’s not going to get a break. So she tries to hold out as long as she can, breathing through the sensations and tamping down the arousal threatening to take over, hands twisting the sheets in hard fists. She doesn’t want to come but Jen is going to make her anyway, because she can feel her traitorous body responding as Jen curls her skilled fingers, mouth replaced with a thumb stroking just alongside her clit like Judy likes it. She consciously relaxes all of her muscles, hoping to stave off the inevitable, delay her demise. 

But Jen knows this game and she knows how to play Judy. Knows every weakness. Jen reaches up and pinches a nipple, hard. Judy can feel herself slipping, her grasp on control tenuous as it’s wrested from her with Jen’s every movement, mouth making its way back up between her hip bones. Jen fucks the last remaining bit of resistance from her body, and when Judy’s body betrays her she comes with a frustrated cry offered up to the ceiling and Jen’s hot mouth on her breast. 

“So, so wet, Judy.” Jen hums approvingly. 

She continues her thrusts, and rather than slowing to work Judy down from her high, she pulses her fingers more quickly and proddingly against the pronounced spot inside of her. Judy whimpers and clenches around Jen, still at the mercy of the orgasm, rolling her hips into Jen’s touch.

“Hands above your head.” Jen instructs, using her free hand to pin Judy’s wrists together against the pillow once she complies. Jen grips them hard, restraining Judy while fucking her straight through this first climax and directly into another, deeper orgasm. Judy moans loudly, unprepared and blindsided by her body doing something she didn’t think was possible. She’s never come back to back like this and she’s definitely never soaked Jen’s hand quite so much. The feeling is deeper, bottomless, and she feels something start to fracture inside of her. 

Jen only gives her seconds to recover before she’s sitting Judy up and sliding behind her on the bed, kneeling and leaning back against the headboard. She helps readjust Judy’s pliant body so she’s leaning back against Jen, her naked back sticking sweatily to Jen’s clothed chest. Judy’s spread out for her, her hips bookended by Jen’s knees, her naked body bared and accessible. Shivers wrack Judy’s chest, a mix of arousal, anticipation, oversensitivity, and the feeling of cool air pebbling her skin as her sweat evaporates.

“Count down from 100,” Jen whispers against the shell of Judy’s ear, humming a pleased noise when Judy begins immediately. “I don’t want you coming until you’ve reached zero, do you understand?”

Judy falters then on  _ ninety-five _ , whimpering and nodding her assent. Hopeful that these hundred seconds will be enough for her to recover.

Jen avails herself of the unobstructed access she now has to Judy’s body. Her fingers slide down on either side of Judy’s clit, squeezing together torturously to aggravate the already sensitive nerve endings.

“Eighty fff- ” Judy loses the word on a moan, hips trying to buck to escape the sensation. It’s too much too soon and she’s feeling overexposed, suddenly excessively aware of the feeling of cool satin pressed against her sweaty back, an arousing reminder that Jen is still fully clothed. 

By the time Judy reaches fifty, she’s certain she’s not going to make it. Jen has three fingers rolling precise circles against Judy’s oversensitive clit and the speed of the motions is quickly driving Judy to the brink for a third time. If it weren’t for Jen’s earlier command she’d be coming by now. Her entire world narrows until all she can process is the consistent pressure of Jen’s forearm across her ribs; the feeling of Jen’s clothed body pressing against her bare skin; the heady scent of sweat and arousal and Jen’s perfume.

Judy barely makes it through the thirties, because by that point Jen’s rolling a nipple between her fingers and combined with the persistent attention between Judy’s thighs, it’s all she can do to keep herself from coming. She slips a little deeper into her own mind, absorbing the sensations and letting the countdown occupy her entire consciousness. 

_ twenty two - oh, fuck - twenty one, twenty, n- nineteen, eighteen- _

Judy’s eyes squeeze shut in concentration as she whispers the last ten seconds of her countdown, brow furrowed and every last cell in her body focused on holding out until she’s allowed. She’s determined to be good for Jen and follow the only instruction she’s been given. 

_ Three, _

_ Two, _

_ One. _

“Fuuuck!” 

The room implodes, or she does. She thrashes in Jen’s grip as she lets the orgasm finally overtake her. Judy’s crying out, mewling, closing her legs in a futile effort to escape the near-torture being wrought on her body by Jen’s relentless hands. Jen lifts her fingers from Judy’s clit, giving her her first moment of respite tonight and making her hope for a moment that this might be it.

But just as the thought crosses her mind, Jen’s hand slides down and she’s suddenly inside Judy again. 

“No, no.” Judy pleads, needing just a moment longer to collect herself this time because there’s no way she can handle being touched right now when she’s this swollen and oversensitive at Jen’s behest. 

“Did you think you were done?”

It’s brutal and dizzying and she knows it’s nowhere near done. She shakes her head, trusting in Jen and basking in the security she feels at the certainty behind Jen’s words. Jen knows what she needs, and Judy’s desire to be good for her outweighs everything else. 

The fingers inside her start to press in circles, intent on bringing Judy to the edge a fourth time, forcing every breath from her chest in a moan.

“What color are we, baby?”

“Green,” Judy manages, eager to appease Jen and already shivering in anticipation of her response. 

“Good girl.”

Jen doesn’t slow, even when Judy’s sobbing and on the verge of hyperventilation, deep gasping breaths and hiccuping sobs wracking her body while she writhes at Jen’s touch. Judy’s legs press together on instinct in an unconscious effort to stop Jen’s hand, to offer some relief or just a moment of respite but she doesn’t get it. Jen keeps working, now digging her fingertips viciously into Judy’s swollen and overstimulated clit with too much force. It’s sharp, the pain and the answering heat prickling across her skin. God, she needs to pull away, would do anything for just a moment to breathe and not feel this but Jen has her locked and immobile with a tight arm across her ribs and her arms pinned to her sides. She couldn’t get away if she wanted to; she’s entirely at Jen’s mercy. 

“Jen, no, I can’t!” she finally shrieks, feeling embarrassed and small at her inability to give Jen what she wants, to be good. But she just  _ can’t _ . “Please, please-”

“You can, sweetie. You will.”

“Fu-” she sobs again, tears sticky on her cheeks and sweat plastering her bangs to her forehead. She’s a fucking mess and Jen is just  _ looking _ at her, head turned to the side, face just a breath from Judy’s. She just knows Jen can see everything; the things she keeps hidden, the good and the bad, all of her. 

“God you’re so beautiful, Jude.” Jen purrs reverently, her hot breath dampening Judy’s cheek as she plucks at Judy’s nipple with just a bit too much force. “Come for me.”

Judy’s not ready but her body betrays her. She cries out, coming again, legs pressed so tight together but still unable to escape the torturous thrall of Jen’s touch, already ramping back up again. Judy’s clit is so swollen and sensitive that on Jen’s next light pass Judy shrieks and bucks.

“YELLOW! Yellow, yellow, yellow, Jen, fuck, I’m sorry- I just need-”

“Shhh, it’s ok baby,” Jen slows the motion of her fingers and lets up on the pressure, still holding Judy tight but giving her the temporary relief she needs. “You’re okay.” 

She loosens her restricting grip across Judy’s body and rubs her free hand up and down Judy’s arm soothingly. 

“Let me know when you’re ready.”

Judy sobs at the implication. She knows she’s not off the hook yet but she doesn’t think she can survive coming another time. She feels something release, her willpower retreating a notch, giving up another piece of control to Jen and surrendering herself further to her will. Her disaster of a day and the stresses of earlier forgotten, replaced by  _ this _ , by Jen shouldering Judy’s burden and taking her to this place where she’s fracturing apart and focused solely on what Jen’s asking of her. 

“You ready?” 

“I don’t-” she whines, body and mind still fully overwhelmed while she drowns in sensation and a tight, unnamable emotion. Her desire to be good for Jen at war with what her body is capable of, what she can take. “I don’t think I can. I can’t go again, please don’t make me.” She begs, already feeling the overwhelming guilt at the thought of disappointing Jen. 

“Mmm, I know you can. One more for me, baby. You can do it.”

Judy whimpers, her desire to please Jen overriding how spent she feels. It’s just one more. She can do it for Jen. She won’t disappoint her. 

“I know you can do this for me, sweetheart. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”

Judy nods her head, tears streaking down her cheeks as Jen prompts her again. She can’t disappoint her this time, she’d die before letting her down, though at this point death feels like a genuine possibility. She gathers what resolve she has left that hasn’t yet been wrung from her before whispering:  _ okay. _

“Oh, my good girl,” Jen breathes, and Judy knows that she’s glowing, preening under Jen’s praise and her loving, encouraging gaze. This is what she needed; the accomplishment of being good - for  _ her _ \- causes a resurgence of arousal that eclipses the ache, lets her spread her thighs a little to give Jen better access. Judy whimpers at Jen’s pleased murmur, giving over to Jen’s insistent fingers as she renews the pressure; increases her speed; curling her fingers inside Judy and digging the heel of her hand into Judy’s clit. 

“JEN!” she shrieks, crying out and bucking again already. Judy summons every last shred of control in her body because Jen wants this from her, knows she can be good. She breathes deeply and yields, trying to put her trust in Jen to take her through this and push her to where she needs to go. 

Judy is drowning in the sweltering heat of this moment, clawing for purchase and air while Jen plucks at her strings to play her to another horrific and agonizing crescendo. Her hair plastered to her forehead and her neck; face sticky with sweat and tears and drool. She’s wrecked in a way she never has been before, couldn’t be for anyone but Jen. She feels the last shred of control give way, unseated by Jen’s fingers curling inside and her bruising, immobilizing hold. Her head lolls back on Jen’s shoulder as she surrenders to Jen’s protection and care, the physical strain becoming eclipsed by the security and warmth she feels emanating from Jen. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just give up. Give in. I’ve got you.”

Judy does, crying now in earnest at the sensations and the suffocating rise of emotion, a steady halfhearted stream of fruitless whimpers -  _ pleasepleasepleasenopleaseno -  _ working their way from deep in her chest while Jen ruins her, laying her bare and raw and forcing a final and catastrophic orgasm to pull her under. 

Judy screams, so loud and shrill it seems like it could break glass. She feels like it should - like everything should be shattering around her - joining her in fracturing into thousands of tiny shards for Jen. She’s coming and screaming and sobbing and twisting and Jen keeps up her movements while Judy soaks her hand, filthily and obscenely, and god, being held by Jen’s strong arms like this, being pulled through this unfathomable torture by Jen’s firm and commanding hands is more than she can take. 

Immediately Jen is gathering her up, turning her around to face her and wiping the tears from Judy’s face while murmuring soothing encouragement and praise as Judy curls her knees up, making herself tiny in Jen’s arms.

Judy sobs at the relief she feels, cracked open and bared to Jen, nothing in her control anymore. She’s drifting, delirious, Jen’s words a soft and unintelligible hum whose pacifying tone is a balm for her cracks. She’s safe and floating, somewhere beyond their bedroom.

“So good,” Jen purrs, stroking Judy’s hair and placing soft kisses to her temple. “You’re so good, sweetie.”

Jen sits back slightly again so she has room to lift the sticky fingers of her right hand to Judy’s mouth, pressing them past her lips in one insistent motion. Judy cleans them obediently; mouth full with her own taste and Jen’s fingers, pressing for just a moment against the back of Judy’s tongue.

“That’s it.” Jen murmurs in encouragement. She kisses the taste from Judy’s lips afterwards, only pulling away to give Judy a chance to breathe again. Jen’s eyes search her face, making sure she’s okay, and Judy feels another sudden rush of emotion rising in her throat when Jen leans over and retrieves a glass of water from the nightstand, holding and tipping it for Judy while she drinks between shaky breaths. 

Judy drops her face into Jen’s neck afterward, hands searching for her waist and clenching tight to the smooth satin, desperate for some kind of anchor. She wants to be wrapped up in Jen, needs to feel comforted and protected here in her arms. The floral scent of Jen’s shampoo surrounds her and she succumbs to the warmth, melting into Jen’s soft touch. 

She’s still shaking, teeth chattering, the muscles in her legs spasming involuntarily from the earlier exertion as Jen rocks her back and forth, whispering encouragement and praise, petting Judy’s sweaty hair before pulling back to look her in the eyes. Everything else has fallen away, her world narrowing to a tiny pinprick that is Jen in this moment. They feel like the only two people on the planet. 

They’re kissing again, and rather than the languid, lazy kisses of just a few moments ago, this one feels more urgent, driven by Jen’s arousal. Jen pushes Judy back again, head toward the foot of the bed this time as Jen climbs over and straddles her, grabbing and pinning Judy’s wrists just like she did four orgasms ago. 

“Look at you,” Jen intones, eyes raking over Judy’s prostrate nude form. Judy squirms just slightly in Jen’s grip, turned on again despite herself.

Jen initiates another kiss and starts a slow grind against Judy’s hipbone, rolling her hips against Judy’s, blonde hair escaping from her bun and framing her face like a golden halo. The room is filled with the sounds of rustling cloth and Jen’s heavy breathing as she spreads her knees just a little bit wider, bearing down hard while she keeps Judy immobilized, using her for her own pleasure. Judy feels debauched, intoxicated, powerless.

“Fuck baby, you were so good for me,” Jen groans, pencil skirt pushed up around her hips now that she’s grinding against Judy in earnest. “So, so good coming for me like that.” 

Judy whimpers. After all of that, she didn’t think she could feel more like she belonged to Jen. But this; this possessive  _ taking,  _ Jen so turned on by Judy’s complete submission that she’s slipping her fingers inside herself and using her leverage to buck hard against Judy’s trapped thigh; murmuring praise for how obedient and compliant Judy is. It’s too much, and she closes her eyes for a moment to focus on the physical sensations, reminding herself that Jen has her. She flexes her wrists experimentally, feeling Jen’s firm grip where they’re pinned above her head. She relishes the fact that even if she wanted to move, she can’t. 

“Jude.”

A quick tap of Jen’s wet fingers against her cheek is the reminder she needs to open her eyes back up, meeting Jen’s intense and overwhelming gaze again. Jen smirks as she trails a wet fingertip across Judy’s lower lip. A stifled whimper is all that makes it out of Judy’s throat in response before she darts her tongue out for a taste while Jen returns her hand between her legs, slick sounds evident now in the quiet bedroom.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I love seeing you like this,” Jen pants, fucking herself, rocking her hips against her hand. Her bottom lip trapped between her teeth in concentration, nostrils flaring with exertion and arousal. 

“Ahh!” Jen keens unrestrainedly, pressing her forehead to Judy’s and crying out softly with each thrust. Judy’s face is bathed in the heat from Jen’s breath, escaped strands of Jen’s hair sticking to her skin. Her hips buck of their own accord, finding skin on skin pressure against Jen’s upper thigh that reminds her she’s still oversensitive, a mewl working its way out of her throat without her permission. Jen groans in response to the sound, tightening her grip on Judy’s wrists so it's almost bruising. It only takes three more quick snaps of Jen’s hips for her to come, Judy’s name spilling from her lips while she uses her leverage against Judy’s body to draw out the pleasure, removing her hand and rolling slickly against a bare, tanned thigh. 

Judy watches Jen come in awe, astounded by her beauty and overtaken by an intense feeling of gratitude. Jen’s proud of her, has told her as much so many times tonight. The warmth of that thought leaves her feeling tingly, almost high. 

Jen bends to capture Judy’s lips as she comes down, still grinding with the subtlest of movements to prolong the sensation. The room is silent now, save for the soft sounds of their slow kiss and their heavy breathing as they break apart. Jen stretches out to lay on top of Judy, pressing their bodies together, smiling softly and framing her face between her hands. The feeling of Jen’s work clothes against Judy’s sensitive and overstimulated body is indescribable and she relaxes a bit into the feeling, meeting Jen’s slightly unfocused eyes. A manicured thumb traces across Judy’s eyebrow as Jen searches her face, checking in.

“How do you feel?”

Judy blinks, evaluating.

“Like I can breathe?”

“Oh, honey,” Jen whispers, smiling and pressing kisses against Judy’s cheeks. 

“I love you” Judy sighs, exhausted. They probably have more to talk about and deal with later but for now Jen’s driven away the worst of her demons; reminded her that she’s safe. 

“I love you too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> if this were ff.net and it was 2003, I would bribe you all for comments by promising a certain word count of future smut for every comment. But its 2020 and we're past that so instead I will just ask very nicely for your thoughts. 
> 
> Seriously though, I so appreciate every single comment and they keep me going when I am so over writing and certain I'm never going to post anything ever again.
> 
> If you like, come find me on Twitter!


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